a little Nutty

Coconuts, mmmm. They stink, oh they do!
They reek, they smell: distinctive unforgettable strong.
Once you’ve had a taste of coconut you don’t need a label on a jar to tell you what’s inside;
just open it and breathe in that odor that shouts out declares asserts itself,
I AM COCONUT!!! I AM COCONUT!! COCOOOOONNNUTTTTTTTT!!

Do you know coconut?

Now what’s this bottle over here? Open it up.
Hmm, it’s odorless, has no fragrance, no perfume, denuded.
Take a taste of the stuff, eh! bland; but wait the label says coconut oil?
Coconut oil? Really? Ah, it’s been refined . . . .
rendered processed deodorized tasteless; stinks all gone, nutrition gone too, everything that makes it coconut, defines coconut: Gone, Long GONE!
Is it even coconut oil anymore? This pretender. It masquerades, pretends, preens, and glories in its refinement,
it has a long way to go to find the coconut in itself.
It’s forgotten how to shout, an illusion of what it once was, artificial in its beautifully packaged bottle: Refined.

You keep your adulteration, I say, I AM COCONUT!!!
And I stink. I am strong, a tough nut to crack. Pure coconut.
Greasy. Raw. Inside me is an ocean of amniotic fluid, Life giving, Warm, Vital, Nourishing.
I AM COCONUT AND I SHINE!!

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